


The Season For Lust and Betrayal

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cheating, Dubious Consent, M/M, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean woke up that morning he knew something was wrong with him, that feeling hasn't left all day and only got worse when Crowley showed up. All Dean wanted to know was what was wrong with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Season For Lust and Betrayal

_“Sam!”_

The same word. The same name. The same desperate call forced Dean from his sleep with a jolt that sent him searching for liquid relief that wasn't there. Dean promised to stop drinking so excessively like he was when he first got here, when Lisa first saw it in hear heart to somehow let him stay.

She was everything he could have ever wanted. She lifted him up when he was so broken down. This was his apple pie life and she was it. She and her son, the son Dean considers to be his own. He didn't want to say love, but he felt devoted to them. Almost and nearly more then he has been to his brother. But this was a different kind so that was almost okay. Dean can nearly live with it.

But Dean won't lie if asked who's name was whispered desperately when he wakes up from a nightmare. The brother he failed to jump after. The brother who made him promise to come here and live the apple pie life. The brother who was in a place he didn't deserve to be. That was Dean who deserved it, not Sam. Never Sam. Not for a thousand years. Or ever.

But Sam was in Hell and Dean was here on Earth.

It wasn't fair.

But that was life and for Winchester's fairness was never on their side.

Reaching across the bed Dean remembered that Lisa and Ben would be gone for the long weekend. Three days in total. Both went to visit her sister, her sister who didn't care as much for Dean. She even told Dean once that he had a psycho vibe to her. Dean laughed it off of course and they got along for the sake of Lisa and Ben. For both of them, Lisa and Ben meant more then petty dislike.

Life was good. Not fair but good.

It took a bit longer then he would have liked to drag himself out of bed, he felt sluggish for a reason that was beyond him and the taste of sin and sulphur was on his tongue. It was in his mind of course but this was the first time he woke up with that taste since Dean was first raised from Hell by Cas.

Castiel who disappeared to Heaven without another word. Dean prayed to him at least once a week, letting the angel know that Dean was alive at least and asked if Castiel was alive as well. If he was okay and if Heaven was okay with Cas. No answer, but that doesn't surprise him. Castiel was fickle like that and narrow minded when on a single task sometimes.

Bobby wasn't contacted yet, that was Dean's fault though. He failed to hit send when he dialled the old hunter's number. Dean always hated himself for being a coward. But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't bring himself to contact Bobby. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Bobby sold his soul, Bobby would be going to Hell one day if Crowley didn't hold up his end of the deal and give back the soul that was loaned to him for information.

Dean will never forget the picture on the demon phone. It looked like Bobby wanted to gag and Crowley was amused.

Dean's first stop since bed was the shower because when he has nightmares he sweats like he was running for his life or struggling to live. Perhaps he was? Dean didn't know what it looked like when he had one of those nightmares, Sam told him he woke up screaming and would whimper and plead throughout the night. But Sam was so distracted then too that Dean didn't know if it was true. Could it be true? Dean didn't want to think about it.

So instead he did what he did best, he compartmentalized things and focused on washing the sweat and taste away.

Dean always loved hot showers, they relaxed sore muscles and helped him relax and focus. Only today it was the opposite. The heat on his back felt scorching. Felt like it was melting his flesh and Dean could almost smell the sizzling of flesh. Rushing to turn the shower off with an angry curse that had him throwing the shower curtain out of his way as he stepped out of the shower. It was more upsetting then he would have liked it to be.

“What the fuck...” Dean forced out as he focused on his next task. Brushing his teeth, brushing his hair, drying and getting dressed. Basic actions that didn't require much thought like putting a putting a gun together and sharpening a machete. Easy. Pushing past that knowledge Dean gargled the remaining toothpaste he had and rinsed his mouth with water afterwards. Clean and with a toothpaste taste that was welcomed in comparison to this morning.

He'll stop for coffee on the way to work.

First he checked his messages. Lisa promised to leave morning messages in Dean's messages. So he listened to them. It was so normal and tender and so very Lisa.

“Good morning Dean, this is the first morning away. I hope you slept well. Ben says hi and I will phone you later.”

It was so chick flick it had Dean cracking a grin that he will deny even to himself. Dean Winchester does not do chick flick moments! But the gesture warmed him enough that he had a slight grin as he left the house and locked it behind him. There was the temptation to set up protections before he leaves, but that was in his hunting life. This wasn't a hunting life anymore. This was a normal apple pie life he promised Sam he'd have.

Dean started the truck and went to pull out only to see the top of a bike helmet in his rear view mirror when Dean checked. Pink. Fake bunny ears on top. Rubber no doubt. Dean felt a surge of anger. Anger and fear maybe.

Dean got out and walked to the back of his truck and stared at the startled girl who looked like she didn't expect a truck to be backing up towards her.

“You crazy kid? I could have hit you.” Dean snapped. He liked kids, he really did. But not today. Today he felt mostly annoyed now. He noted the girls name to be Patrica, Patty for short. Good girl and well mannered. Did nothing to deserve Dean snap at her like this. She made a mistake, those are human and known to happen. He shouldn't have snapped at her.

Tears swelled in her eyes and her mother stormed over. Immediately going into what Dean would dub 'mother bear mode' and that was something he wanted to avoid. That scared him since Ellen. Dean did his best to pacify her and promise he won't snap at Patty again. The girl was led home, Dean heard her sniffling. Did Dean snap that badly?

Guilt choked at him for a moment as he climbed into his pick up truck again and headed towards the construction site he worked on. He was good at building things. Almost as good as he was at destroying things. Dean himself has destroyed so many lives and destroyed so many 'pests' in his life.

Still it was a good job and the people he worked with were good people. They invited him golfing regularly and Dean found it amusing on how easy it was to hit the little white ball until it landed into a sand pit. Then Dean usually got mad and cheated by picking it up and throwing it out. He only got caught three times in total. He owed everyone a drink as the consequences and his co-workers knew how to pick the most expensive drinks to buy. Dean always had nasty words to say about that, but never in spit though. They were okay people.

Dean greeted them with a smile, it wasn't so fake anymore.

With that he got to work.

He was good at work and he didn't have to lead anyone through situations that required shooting and stabbing and killing. Simple scenario's and safety precautions.

~ + ~

It was a twelve hour shift that lasted four days a week and sometimes more. Dean's job corresponded with the long weekend this time. Break time was anything from a half an hour to an hour depending on their supervisor that day and how good of a mood the boss man was in.

Today not so good. So it was a half an hour, nobody was happy but they ducked their heads and kept working steadily. They had other breaks, fifteen minutes here and there. Anything that would allow them to take a breather. Dean sometimes worked through those ones. Today he didn't. For some reason he felt agitated and remembered how easy it was to snap at the girl from this morning because of a mistake she made. A mistake that could have cost her, her life. Patty should have...

No Dean should have been watching better.

“Yo, Dean you okay buddy?” A man said, big and big armed. Tough, Dean noted and not for the first time. The name was Joe and he was all around good guy. Gentle giant from what Dean found out. Not a mean bone in his body and was the type to help an old woman across the road. Dean witnessed it too.

Was his mood that noticeable?

“Ya, fine.” Dean answered as he faced Joe head on, instinct telling him not to turn his back and Dean found that to be wrong because as he already knows, Joe won't heart a fly. Joe won't hurt Dean either. But Dean knew he could hurt Joe. Finely said words, precise hits and cuts. It was a horrible thing to know, but Dean knows he could hurt anyone.

Dean shifted the conversation from himself to Joe and his ailing mother. They spent the rest of the fifteen minute simply talking. It turns out Joe knew Dean cheated on golf a lot more then when he was caught and found it more hilarious then anything. The big guy had a sense of humour.

Dean found Joe's boisterous laughter to be infectious half the time. But not today, Dean didn't laugh today. Instead his memory laughed but not a good memory.

They parted as they went back to work and Joe wished Dean well and told him that whatever is bothering him he could always talk to Joe about it. Joe had no idea what goes on or what could be Dean's problem. It was the stuff of nightmares and it could get Dean locked up as an insane patient. So he smiled and thanked Joe but told him things were fine.

~ + ~

He must be sick.

That was the only thing Dean could come up with in short notice. He was only in eight hours on the job when he found himself gasping for breath. The taste of sulphur and aggression was in his mouth and his temper went from controlled to not. He snapped at Joe and Dean has never snapped at the gentle giant. Of course Dean gave his best apology as he could, Joe was ever understanding figured he was sick as well.

It took a bit of convincing and glaring but Dean was granted the rest of the day off and was told that he must call before tomorrow if he needs another day off. With a parting thanks to Joe and a frown for everyone else Dean tossed his stuff into the back of the truck and climbed in.

He needed to get out!

Dean would even 'thank Cas' for the fact that Joe didn't press for details at all today when Dean felt worse or got distracted. Dean didn't want to tell him about the horrible things that surfaced in his mind. The knowledge that Dean felt choked with. Pest control among other things wouldn't cut it as an explanation for how he was behaving when he wasn't carefully watching his own actions. He'd rather Joe and everyone else stay ignorant, it was their gift from Dean at the moment.

Dean also liked Joe, he was a friend Dean hung out with when not doing his own thing or having barbeques with Sid his neighbour.

Dean needed something. Dean had to go somewhere, do something. He didn't want to carry himself home in this sort of mood and somehow corrupt Lisa and Ben's place. They didn't even deserve the silent filth that Dean carried into the house with his own baggage. What he wouldn't give to feel the rumble of the Impala around him and something to hunt and kill.

But he was out of that life! This was his life now.

Lisa and Ben. Construction and a pick up truck. Co-workers and golf not fellow hunters and hunts. The Impala and monsters.

So rather then take the turn that would take him home he turned down one road and then another, gassed up once but otherwise kept driving in hopes to clear his head of whatever is going wrong with him. It didn't make sense! Dean searched his knowledge as a hunter and he came up with a blank and for a moment he toyed with the idea to phone Bobby or pray to Castiel.

But a sudden surge of shame kept him silent even when Dean knew he probably shouldn't be. Stopping him from asking them what could be making him taste sulphur and think horrible things when he couldn't control which direction his mind goes. It was exhausting to control every little thought he has.

There was one person who would have pushed him into phoning or would have phoned himself. And that was Sam. But Sam was dead and Dean wasn't.

Dean was here tasting sulphur and not knowing why. Dean was here with horrible thoughts and couldn't go home because he couldn't bare the thought of tainting that sanctuary that was his normal life. His apple pie life, the one Sam never got but wanted. It was one that Dean got but didn't originally want.

Dean was thankful all the same.

However at the moment any soft emotion that he tied to that house was curled and tangled with whatever is wrong with him. Dean won't admit that with every twist and strengthening of that wrong feeling the more concerned and frightened he was. He had pride and it was that pride and ego that kept him from admitting that fear to himself even though he knows it's there.

Turning one final time Dean found himself parked on the side of a road. It wasn't one of the more populated area's. Dean was somehow thankful for that. He needed air and cracking open the window won't do. So after a car drives by Dean gets out to stretch his legs, closing the door behind him he paced around the general area of his pick up truck.

_“Dean!”_

Dean recognized that voice and instantly looked around. His brother, was his brother calling his name like Dean called Sam's! Fear and guilt and the sudden need to lash out at the unfairness of it curled inside of Dean and tightened his fists. Why did life seem to have the need to screw him over?!

Sam's name was trapped in his throat. There was no hope for it to be released, to call back to a voice that probably wasn't even there. Dean was sick, he must be. Why else would he be hearing his brother call to him for help. To help him from being torn apart and hurt and tortured and left to defend himself. All the while Dean sat comfortably.

It was moments like this that usually reminded Dean on how anger was like a virus. Hard to get ride of. Even when Dean finally catches himself beating his pick up truck's hood with a branch Dean managed to find. When did he pick it up? When did he let his emotions get that out of hand that an instant lashing out was required. The final thought was him thanking Cas that no one was around to witness it or get in the way.

There would be nothing but scratches on the hood of his truck, it wasn't the Impala so Dean found himself not really wasting time worrying about a few little scratches.

“What the fuck's wrong with you Dean?” Dean asked himself while leaning back against the front of his pick up truck. There was a soft breeze, it helped sooth Dean a little. For that he was thankful.

Dean was always aware of his surroundings under normal circumstances. Especially when out in the open like he was now. But for the life of him he couldn't stop himself from just staring ahead and letting everything else fade. Still controlling his thoughts and still trying to figure out what was going on with him. So it was natural that he didn't hear the footsteps next to his truck or someone moving behind him.

He did notice sulphur.

And there was no ignoring the mocking and precise British accent behind him.

“You are full of surprises, I'll give you that.”

That one spoken sentence was enough to force Dean to stop gazing off and focus on the here and now. Which was on the side of the road and with Crowley of all people standing next to the driver side of the truck. Dean instantly searched for his weapons or at least a weapon he could use, it was a natural reaction to having a demon appear behind you. Life as a hunter can do that to you.

Dean was unarmed and face to face with the King of the Crossroads, if he was still that highly ranked since the end of the Apocalypse. The one person to grace his life since then and leave it to Dean's luck for it to be a demon. Not Castiel and not Bobby, but then Dean hasn't contacted them either. So could that really count?

But that little fact aside comes the questions of what did Crowley mean and why was the demon even here. Dean knows that if any demon comes knocking it's never a good thing. And Crowley wasn't any demon, he was the King of the Crossroad and if it was true Dean remembers that he mentioned killing a nest of demons so Crowley wasn't a slouch in the whole threat area. So all in all, Crowley might have been surprisingly helpful during the Apocalypse but he was still a demon and to be handled with caution and prejudice.

Not to mention Dean had to focus even more then he does at work. And with whatever is wrong with him, it wasn't entirely easy. But Dean could do it, he's focused on more in difficult situations before.

“What do you want Crowley?” Dean forced out, why was the demon here. That one question seemed to be the main one swarming his mind. Dean focused on Crowley, made sure that not even a twitch went unnoticed. It was then for a split moment, not even long enough to remember clearly. But Dean could swear he saw something else behind Crowley's skin. Swirling and dark, ominous.

“Is that any way to talk to a friend, we been through an Apocalypse together. Surely that earns me something besides forced out hallow demands.” Crowley mocked as he took a step forward and before Dean could stop himself he stiffened up. Dean counted stiffening up as the lesser of two evils, it was between that and taking a step back. Unfortunately doing that meant Dean's not in as much control of the situation as he would have liked. No, that control belongs to Crowley at this point.

Dean wanted to lash out. Dean wanted something else, something worse. But that was not as strong as the wish to hurt something was. Violence. Something Dean knew first hand with his hunting career but it made no sense for Dean to want or feel something like that in his apple pie life with Lisa. Lisa who was at her sister's with Ben. Dean was here on the side of the road with a demon and somehow he felt like he was cheating on her.

But why?

“We're not friends Crowley, you helped with the Apocalypse and I'm... grateful. But that doesn't mean you earned anything and aren't getting anything.” Dean snapped angrily and he felt even more anger surge as Crowley only seemed more amused as he took a hand out of his pocket and touched the pick up truck lightly only to pull away in slight disgust. It was obviously seen as below him. Dean ended up glaring. That truck may not be fancy but it works and it's comfortable. Not as comfortable and as welcoming as his Baby but the truck does what it was supposed to do.

Dean of course expected a response, some witty remark that Crowley seemed to be natural at shooting off in response to whatever anyone else says. At least that's what Dean figures because he's had some dealing with Crowley and had to work with him during the Apocalypse and felt like he stood idly by when Crowley slit the throats of humans to get to Brady.

When he didn't get a response annoyance curled in his stomach making him anxious and forced Dean forward until he was standing on the side of his truck as well and right in front of Crowley who looked equally annoyed for a second before amused. Dean wanted to know what it was that had Crowley amused. Did Dean amuse him? If that was the case Dean would have to do something to cut the demon's amusement short and end it. Not to mention what had Crowley annoyed? Was it because Dean had the audacity to step forward, a silent challenge directed towards Crowley somehow?

It was moments like this that reminded Dean that he was taller then Crowley. And yet no matter what it always seems like it was Crowley who had a looming presence that almost made Dean feel like he was small. Dean wondered if this was the general public's thoughts when standing next to Sam?

The longer the lack of an answer or an acknowledgement went on the more annoyed Dean found himself getting as he stood face to face with the demon in front of him. The more he knows he should be doing something more then just standing there waiting on the demon. The more he realizes that annoyance is not so friendly.

Dean also see's that something was wrong with Crowley as well, but Dean didn't know what because Crowley always seemed to be in control of himself all the time. Or at least that's what he figured during his brief time working with the demon. Crowley liked to be in control and he liked his material things more then your average demon. Not to mention the whole tailor thing. It was a first for Dean to get yelled at in regards to a tailor being eaten. Not to mention what point was there for a demon to have a tailor?

“What's wrong with you?” Dean finds himself asking. Was that why Crowley was here? To ask for help? Like he had a right to! Dean won't help him though, he won't. He can't. If Dean even considered it, he would be damning himself somehow. Perhaps even easier then when you would say those damning words. Let's make a deal. And with those words you would know that a door would be closed to you, only not everyone is fully aware of that because they are ignorant and don't think souls are real at first.

With the firm decision of not helping Crowley in the slightest Dean was forced to focus on the current problem. There was something wrong with Crowley. But then something was wrong with Dean and Dean didn't know what or why or how. Nothing in his experience could explain any of this. And it was all on a subconscious level, seen in small gestures and noticed. Dean wasn't aware of anything growing or changing colour to signify the changes.

Crowley suddenly seemed even more distracted.

This was a situation Dean wasn't prepared to face. This was an unknown. And despite the public's declaration of you shouldn't be afraid of the unknown. Dean knows better. Always fear what you don't know. Always fear what's in the dark and go prepared. He told Sam that once back when Sam had a girlfriend, a proper one who wasn't demonic. Jess was her name. Dean remembers her name because how can he forget her. Sam loved her and she died like Dean and Sam's mother.

Dean decided the distracted state and the lack of answering his questions has gone on long enough. Dean always stated he wasn't the smart one, that was Sam. Maybe Dean wasn't giving himself enough credit and selling himself short but he always considered himself to be someone who lived through actions rather then plans and words and collage education. He had a GED and that was enough and he knew how to fix a car, work odd jobs and hunt, so it was enough for Dean. It was just how he was. And given that he doesn't quit feel right, his judgement might seem to be slightly skewered at the moment. He didn't know for sure.

Dean was wrong at the moment so what's wrong with stupid actions to get himself away from whatever is wrong with him and in the present.

Dean took hold of Crowley's tie and pulled the surprisingly unresisting demon towards him. There faces were only inches apart and it was then Crowley took notice of him again. Looked Dean right in the eyes and flashed red for a moment, the coloured eyes of a crossroad demon. There was a moment that could be rightfully classified as 'oh no' before a need to hurt something curled in his stomach overriding the sensation of making a wrong move and even having some influence in his thoughts. Something that has been happening since this morning.

The need to hurt something. The need to rebel. To move and be free of something. Stretch? Dean didn't know but a few seconds today he felt trapped and he felt that again.

Dean watched in slow motion as emotions spotted clearly in Crowley passed by quickly. Distraction first. Anger. Amusement. But mostly a familiar anger that you can see in Demons. But then Demons were human at one time and broken and tortured into something else. That pain no doubt turned to anger and hatred and lust and everything wrong. Crowley turned his attention from Dean to Dean's shoulder where Castiel's hand print was. The proof that Dean was saved, that he was topside and human and not there and what he was becoming.

Why would he look there?

Dean opened his mouth to demand more from Crowley. Demand answers leaving no room for distraction or lies. But a heat curling in his stomach that only made the need for something worse. For violence? What was wrong with him! Despite the wrong feeling's and sensations today it wasn't this bad! This curling heat and need for something worse was amplified for a moment and new compared to thoughts and feelings Dean felt earlier.

Crowley looked increasingly smug, annoyed but smug.

“Well, isn't this a surprise. Knew I was drawn here for some reason.” Crowley purred out. It wasn't often or at all that he's heard Crowley speak in anything like a purr that you would read about or see in either soft or hard porn. No one simply talks like that unless they were looking for something other then a conversation and a phone number. Dean would know.

Crowley saying something again that speaks of something Dean doesn't know of is alarming. First when Crowley got here and then now. What did it mean?

“What the fuck're you talking about Crowley!” Dean snarled, anger curling inside of him. What was it that he didn't know and Crowley obviously does. What was going on today that seemed to result in this increasingly messed up situation that had Dean confused and angry and quickly losing any patience he might have had at the start of it. Not to mention he now wants to know what Crowley wants, what drew him here and what are the consequences going to be.

A chuckle and a sneer. Not the mocking smile that would normally be found on Crowley. It was enough to remind someone that Crowley was a demon and not some arrogant know it all with connections.

“Cr-” Dean started but a hand to his wrist and another to his shirts collar seized control of the situation. Successfully removing his grip on Crowley's tie. The demon was strong, Dean reminded himself needlessly that demons weren't human so they weren't bound by the laws that govern the human body. And the one that Crowley was wearing was a puppet so any strain on muscles and bones would be easily fixed and ignored.

When Crowley pushed at him to back up, Dean had no choice but to stumble back awkwardly with a hand on one wrist and the other on his shirts collar. Dean of course struggled and kicked with no luck. Crowley dodged well enough or it didn't bother him when it did connect. The need for retaliation was spotted though, Dean would be a fool if he didn't see that Crowley had a need to respond to Dean's kicks and struggles in kind.

Dean felt something solid hit the back of his foot, he was walked back into something hard enough for Dean to fall backwards. Dean wondered what it was, there wasn't anything that solid at the side of the road besides a branch but even that wasn't as solid as whatever Dean tripped on.

It was a question and curiosity that was solved less then a second later when he landed on his back with his elbow's catching him before his head struck the floor. Already from the little that he's seen, it was an expensive place and smelt just as clean. It was possible that this was a currently vacant house or Crowley got himself a new hiding spot.

“You obviously don't know, and that's the curious thing. Your pet angel obviously not filling you in on all the blanks.” Crowley mocked standing at Dean's feet practically hovering over him with a confidence the demon had no right to possess. There was the obvious sign of domination there, no one just stands over someone on the ground like that without the intent to be the dominant one in any given situation. Dean in natural born defiance made sure to make eye contact and glare.

Despite the little defiance, Crowley standing over him didn't matter as much as what Crowley said did. What didn't Cas tel him? Crowley clearly knows exactly what's going on.

“You feel it, don't you? Course you do, why else would you be driven to isolate yourself from your co-workers and stay away from your domesticated situation by parking your second hand truck on the side of the road.” Crowley continued to mock and Dean wanted to shoot him at this point. More now then ever before. Instead he'd have to settle for something else due to the lack of a gun. After this he won't ever go without a gun. Lisa will just have to accept that and Sid no doubt would have questions. Dean will keep his gun away from the sight of his co-workers but Sid it couldn't be helped. Sid was the closest Dean came since Cas to have a friend and the guy was around a lot.

“Feel what? What're you talking about Crowley?!” Dean demanded, frustration now clearly curling up inside of him and heard in his voice. What was with everyone and not giving straight answers! No one in Dean's life seemed to be able to do that. Or should he say previous life as a hunter. The apple pie life things were simple and sometimes even straight forward. It was a nice change of pace to say the least.

“The heat curling in you. The need for violence, even if it's only a small amount for you despite how young you are. The trapped feeling, you poor soul you have absolutely no idea do you?” It was obviously the best answer Crowley was going to give. And Dean had to admit that it was at least something he can start to work with. Even though Crowley was mocking him and not telling him everything right from the start. But then, when did demons do what you wanted them to do?

“Cut the bullshit, I wouldn't be asking if I knew!” Dean snapped angrily. There was a lot of cursing going on in Dean's mind and most of it colourful and directed in Crowley's general direction. Maybe the demon killing knife would be useful here? It was too bad he didn't have that with him. The last place he put it was in the trunk of the Impala. Not the smartest place to put such a useful weapon.

More then ever Dean was cursing his own foolish decisions.

A chuckle as Crowley walked past him. Why didn't he get up, stand at the same level as Crowley? Dean hated that he was still on the ground. It was unfamiliar and familiar and it choked him cruelly. His mind travelled to Alastair and how many times Dean found himself on the ground at the demon's feet and begging for mercy and for scraps. Not to mention for more.

There was an obvious look of someone having a debate within themselves. Crowley was debating on whether or not he should tell Dean and that was new. Dean scowled angrily as he clambered to his feet and stalked after the demon. Crowley of course didn't stop for Dean when he got up and followed after the demon in search for answers. Dean didn't expect Crowley to do that either, the guy was full of himself in more ways then one.

Dean of course demanded that Crowley was to stop and tell him what he wanted to know. Dean didn't get any answers until they reached closer to an obvious office like room. Crowley at that point must have lost patience with Dean due to the fact that Dean found himself against the door frame by an arm to his throat. It was then that Dean realized that Crowley was too close and his body seemed to be very aware of that.

That part was normal, Dean always has to be hyper-aware when dealing with demons and other monsters. But this type of awareness wasn't normal. Dean fought against that restraint, he pushed and struggled and twisted. He hated the fact that it was more then clear who was stronger and who was in control and who had all the power of the situation. True Dean could try to exorcise Crowley but the arm to his throat would silence him before the second word could be said.

And Crowley knew that Dean knows this. A grin was to show for it. Dean glared defiantly. It was all that he could do at the moment.

“You don't have the right to make demands here Dean. You're younger then me. You're weaker then me. I hold more power in my hand then you do in a year. Not to mention this is my house, bought new and fresh. Furnished to how I like it.” Crowley said, making it clear now with words that he knew what Dean knows and that only made it more real. Not something Dean can easily deny now, not that it would stop Dean from trying to deny it and fight against it. Dean was used to having to fight against things like this anyway.

But Crowley's words didn't make complete sense. Dean knows he's younger then Crowley but what did that have to do with anything. What did any of that have to do with whatever is going on now and what Dean was doing in Crowley's new house.

With that being said, Crowley entered the room and Dean reluctantly followed after him. There was a lot of books lining the wall behind the desk. Dean noted one of them to be 'The Art of War' by Sun-Tzu. That book was something Dean was aware of, his Dad read it because as John Winchester said it would help with hunts in the long run. It was obvious Crowley saw it as useful to have and most likely read it.

“A brilliant thinker.” Crowley stated, no doubt knowing what Dean was looking at.

Dean noticed other books that he didn't want to see on Crowley's wall. Chuck's books! Dean of course walked right up to them and yanked one off of the book shelf demanding why Crowley has it.

“Because I'm not foolish, better to know what I may or may not have been dealing with then not.” Crowley commented, it was clear he was annoyed with Dean for his obvious lack of manners. But then why should Dean worry about manners when it comes to Crowley. He was just a demon after all. Dean of course made more demands, not listening to the fact that according to Crowley Dean had no right to make demands.

But this time Crowley answered. He had those books as they came out, he hasn't read them though. Just skimmed one or two enough to know who was the key players in the Apocalypse and who he should be allying himself to in order to survive.

“Don't you want to know what's wrong with you?”

That one question took Dean's frustrated and angered attention from the books back to the matter at hand. Like it was no doubt meant to. The book was taken from Dean's hand and laid on top of the others, not put back properly but that would no doubt happen later. Right now Den focused on Crowley and on how wrong he felt. The heat curling in him. The hint of the need for violence that wasn't and will not be acted on. Dean couldn't let himself go like that. Not ever.

“You darling, are in heat. As am I, but I'm older and in more control of it. You are only in control and barely noticing it because of the grace that's acting as a suppressant.” Crowley explained, amused and smug. And of all things Dean expected Crowley to say, it wasn't that. To be told he was in heat, which was wrong and stupid and impossible in so many ways.

Dean was human, humans don't go into heat. But demons apparently do, and if that was the case why didn't Dean hear about it sooner? He wondered if other hunters heard of it, Dean will have to poke around. Maybe this would give him the reason to get himself together to call Bobby? But to the part where he's told that he was in heat? Why would Dean be in heat?! He's human. He's not anything but. Castiel fixed him, fixed the damage as best that he could when Dean was saved.

Dean was supposed to be Michael's true vessel and Michael wouldn't want anything but human. Or at least that's what Dean's assuming.

Dean was human and Crowley was wrong. Crowley who was standing there with amusement at Dean's expense. Dean couldn't count on his hand anymore when something found amusement at his expense. Humans, vampires, demons or whatever all had the chance to be amused at his expense.

“Fuck you, that's bullshit.” Dean said, that was pretty much all he could say. He was human and Crowley's wrong and Dean was sure of this.

“Right because you're human. Darling you spent forty years in Hell with demons and at the hands of demons. That's not a walk in the park.” Crowley taunted as he practically closed the distance between them and Dean was starting to think that Crowley's intentions for having him here was quite clear. Dean felt himself stiffen up as response. Hyper-aware and tense. He wasn't liking this entire situation. He wished he would have just gone home, he would have had weapons there to defend himself with.

“Forty years or not Cas...” Dean tried to correct Crowley, all the while thinking about what this could possibly mean for Sam who was in the cage. The cage was in Hell. Dean felt like he made the biggest mistake in letting Sam say yes and go through with his plan. It wasn't fair.

“Put you back together, cut the demonic bits loose and restored you as best that he could. But you Hell has a deep touch, it can't be washed clean no matter how much grace or scrubbing done.” Crowley cut in saying, something that did nothing but piss Dean off and it showed in his expression and body language. Dean wanted to punch something right about now, and that something was Crowley.

Dean put space between them, Crowley let him with an amused expression that Dean was starting to hate seeing.

“Whatever, you're wrong and why the fuck do you have me here?” Dean snarled, hands curled into fists as a response to his own anger. For a second Dean wanted to hurt Crowley, bleed him or worse. It was a second long enough for Crowley to notice. A chuckle that sent ice through his veins. Dean felt a swirl of self-disgust to mix with the anger and everything else. It all pooled in his stomach and Dean felt like it all was choking him from the inside out.

Dean was aware of Crowley's ability to just disappear and reappear, but being aware of it and prepared for it was two different things. Crowley placed himself right behind Dean, latching onto the back of his jacket pulling him back enough for the demon to speak directly into Dean's ear, mocking and practically playing with Dean and Dean's tolerance level for this situation.

“Why do you think?” The intent in Crowley's words were clear, there was no delusion now in what Crowley wanted. He did say that he was in heat and Crowley did say that Dean was in heat, which Dean stubbornly denied because he's human! He's got to be human! Why wouldn't he be?! Thirty years on and ten years off the rack wasn't enough to turn you, just change you but Dean doubts that the changes were enough.

He was human...

Dean shrugged out of his jacket angrily and swung around with a punch that only caught air. He missed! He missed! Dean saw red and did the only thing he could think of, the foolish thing. With how wrong he was feeling since this morning and the need for violence as faint as it was. This situation in the office was enough to snap whatever reservations he had left.

Dean lashed out. He can be human and still lash out like this. It was normal for someone who has gone through the things Dean has!

Of course his attempt to fight a stronger opponent didn't end up to well, Crowley wasn't one to shy away from hitting back and a good ten minutes later Dean was crumbled on the ground clutching his stomach where the last hit was. Ten minutes, ten short minutes was as long as he could last and he got his ass handed to him. It was embarrassing and Dean couldn't help but think that his Father would be so ashamed of him losing so easily.

But that beating did something aside from reaffirming the fact that Dean was the weaker one in the room. Dean didn't understand and he didn't want to tie it to the explanation Crowley gave him about being in heat and angel grace as a suppressant.

Dean tried to get up but Crowley told him to stay down and Dean did. He didn't know why he just listened like that, so Dean did the only thing he can at the moment and simply put it in the category of him being beaten so he's too sore for the moment. Give him a bit and he'll be back up no matter what Crowley said.

“Good boy.” Crowley taunted and Dean glared at him for it. He could only come up with one response to that 'good boy' Dean got and that was 'bastard'. But Dean didn't say a word as he shifted a bit to ease the pressure on his sore side. If he recalled correctly Crowley kneed him in the side. Who would have thought that Crowley could move that easily?

That moment it took him to shift was all it took for Crowley to crouch next to him without Dean noticing the demon move. Dean cursed his own lack of paying attention. Didn't he insist that one must always keep aware of their situation when he took to looking out for Sam? And here he was losing track of things.

“Do you believe me now?” Crowley asked, it was obviously rhetorical because Dean highly doubts Crowley cares if Dean believes him or not. Dean of course made sure Crowley knows that Dean is aware of this. Crowley didn't correct him, instead he took hold of Dean's upper arm and forced him to his feet again. Dean winced as his stomach and side protested.

“No and let go of me!” Dean snapped angrily and struggled as he was dragged over to the desk. Dean wasn't new to this sort of scene, he's seen it in X-rated movies and magazines. And with that knowledge comes the unwanted heat pooling where he didn't want it to. Why is it Dean who seemed to have the worst luck?

Why was this situation even happening to him of all people. Dean cursed his luck.

Dean didn't get any response to his demand. Not a single word, but then Dean didn't expect an an answer. So instead he was left to deal with the situation as best that he could, and it wasn't easy. Dean knew he was physically weaker then the demon who now had him pinned to the desk. Rage was the only thing he could rely on, but even that didn't help the fact that despite the rage his body was responding positively to the fact that Crowley was between his legs and over top of him. The rage only kept him struggling as best that he could against Crowley and the unwanted need that was twisting inside of him.

Cursing wildly Dean could only push at Crowley when the opportunity offered itself. Dean tried to ignore his body and keep Lisa in his mind to keep the fight going on. But there was only so much Dean could do with the fact that there was hands that were gripping him tightly to hold him in place. There would be bruises and Dean worried on what he would be able to tell Lisa. Dean was cheating on her, or was he? He didn't know. He didn't want this, but he couldn't exactly ignore what it was doing to him either.

Dean felt wrong all day. Dean knows that this situation should be and was wrong. Crowley was wrong. Yet it was all going on no matter how wrong it might have been or how things feel like their going okay.

Dean kept telling Crowley to cut it out, to stop this before it got farther then it should. Not to mention there was some colourful death threats thrown in there. It was just how Dean was sometimes. The key word is 'was' because Dean wasn't in that life anymore and since then he didn't have to threaten anyone with death until now.

Despite everything Dean was saying, his body reacted the opposite. Dean almost found that he wanted the physical contact that Crowley so clearly gave in a rather innocent way for a demon. Granted you don't manhandle someone into position and call it innocent, touch and hold down if it was innocent. But Dean knows that demons could do worse then this, seen it and had it done when Alastair set an example of him and others. So in comparison to that, this was innocent.

Cursing angrily Dean glowered at the demon who had him stuck in place. A hand to his throat was the answer and sudden acknowledgement to everything Dean was saying and protesting against. Crowley moved enough so that he was only arm length away while keeping the grip on Dean's throat present. Dean could still breath but there was enough pressure for him to feel.

Dean couldn't stop himself, he made eye contact with Crowley while grasping at the arm that restrained him by his throat.

“Believe me now? Surely you're not as responsive as you just showed to be under normal circumstances. You are here so that I can relieve myself. With my job I can't mingle with other demons casually and you darling are under effects of this as well. A mutual need. Two adults. Catch my drift?” Crowley forced out and for the first time despite the distraction Dean had seen earlier when they were near Dean's truck, it was obvious now that Crowley was feeling the effects of this so called heat. Dean knew that if the demon didn't want to go to other demons then Crowley's situation must be more serious then Dean is aware of.

This begged the question, what did Crowley want Dean to do about it? Dean didn't and wasn't offering anything despite what his body may be showing. It was the opposite of Dean. Because Dean was human! He was...

“What do you want me to do about it!?” Dean snapped. Serious situation for Crowley or not, why should Dean give a damn. Crowley gave a look that clearly questioned whether or not Dean was an idiot. It was obvious what Crowley wanted Dean to do about it. Dean just didn't want to despite what his body might be thinking. The grip around his throat tightened before letting go completely and hands rested on Dean's hips. Dean hated the intimacy of that sort of light touching. Crowley had no right.

Dean reluctantly sat up as much as he could. He felt too vulnerable laying back, sitting up wasn't helping but it was better then laying down.

“Trust me, it's better to have the devil you know fully functional when the rest of the lot is worse then hormonal teenagers learning what all those bits are for. Young demons can't control themselves, even I'm having trouble.” Crowley said, now obviously trying to talk Dean into it. Though Dean wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to consider the possibilities of what would happen if things got overran on all courts because of young demons. But then who's to say that Crowley could do anything about it even if he was full functional.

Dean didn't know what rank Crowley was or what role he was now playing. Was he still the King of the Crossroads? Was he just a normal crossroad demon? There was a lot of questions that Dean won't ask because he knows that he won't get the answer. Somehow he knows Crowley won't come clean on that regards. It all went against his instincts as a hunter, but Dean wasn't a hunter anymore. He was an acting partner to Lisa and another caretaker to Ben.

Dean couldn't go pushing himself back in the deep end like that. There was the thought that his Father would be so disappointed in Dean at this moment. Thumbs rubbing circles into his hips drew him back to reality though, there was other things to worry about. Not the failure he must be or the wrongness he was feeling today.

He had to worry about Crowley who was standing between Dean's legs still and looking him over in brief moments.

“If that's the case, go to a bar or find a young demon that you can easily overpower...” Dean couldn't believe what he was saying. It was wrong and did he just tell Crowley to go force himself on a younger demon?! Crowley must have found it amusing because he chuckled.

“Not so friendly as people like to think you are, are you.” It was a statement obviously, Dean disagreed with Crowley about that. Sure Dean wasn't friendly but he wasn't the type to say things like that. Under normal circumstances and this wasn't normal. Dean didn't say anything on that regard, instead he tried to force Crowley to let go of his hips when the grip tightened in a demanding way before any barely present space between their hips disappeared. At that Dean couldn't help but feel a small but pleasant jolt.

“No Dean, I don't want random drunk individual male or female _human_ and I most certainly don't want an uncontrolled ankle biter of a demon. I have high standards.” Crowley stated, it was clear that Crowley obviously decided that he wanted Dean for some reason. So that left one last question that had to be asked.

“Then why me... I'm not anything but human.” Dean asked, he was human and he wasn't in heat. Crowley misread the situation. Dean must have been sick or something that somehow gave Crowley the wrong impression. Dean will forever be in denial and one day he'll even call down Castiel to confirm that Dean wasn't in heat and wasn't anything but human.

“Why not have the _Righteous_ man.” Crowley answered with a shrug while moving forward with his hips creating a moment of hard friction that sent pleasure through Dean's body. Unwanted but it was there. Dean had the realization that he was most likely fighting a losing battle if the tightness in his pants was any indication.

He can't. Lisa. Ben. He didn't want anyone but his sweet Lisa, but his body was starting to take the decision out of his hands. If he had decision at all?

“Good boy.” Crowley practically purred out, he no doubt saw a change or room in Dean's doubt and indecision that was now open to Crowley's touches. Dean didn't know if that was the case and for now he didn't care. He hated his situation as it was, but his body was in need now and he wished it wasn't Crowley who was here to answer that unwanted call.

But it is.

There must have been another 'good boy' whispered, Dean couldn't be sure of that. Instead he found himself being touched and growing more aroused. The hands that held his hips in place were gone and Dean didn't want to mourn their disappearance so he pushed it back and counted to three. An arm around his waist pulled him away from the desk and much to his dismay Dean knew he was practically being picked up like a girl. At this point he had no choice but to wrap his legs around Crowley's waist as a response in order for it to be less awkward then it already was.

There was a lack of space between them only and it only made the heat or whatever this was swirl in Dean worse then what it was already. It was wrong and Dean was human. He was now moving without thinking. Hands to Crowley's shoulders, his grip tight and no doubt going to create wrinkles in the suit Crowley was always seen wearing.

There was no acknowledgement of the grip and for that Dean was grateful.

The room shifted and Dean wondered why it was a demon who could pull such a stunt without leaving you feeling dizzy or not able to poop for a week like it was when an angel took you flying from one point to another. Castiel didn't seem to understand that issue though. How could he, he was an angel and Dean was human.

The room they were in now had a bed and had the expensive feel to it. Everything about Crowley seemed to be expensive. The guy complained about a carpet back when they first met for crying out loud. Dean was dropped on the end of the bed, still clothed and for some reason feeling anxious along with everything else. Dean wasn't into guy's under normal circumstances and Crowley's vessel was male. Though that being said, Dean was well aware of what needs to be done in situations like that.

He's been here before. Just not with Crowley or on this bed. In Hell though, that was another story altogether.

Dean hated that he found himself with the sudden inability to look up at Crowley. Dean cursed himself and his fists tightened angrily.

“Such a princess.” Crowley said though there was an odd lack of taunt in those words. Dean forced himself to look up at the demon and glare all the same though. Ignoring how Crowley was taking his tie off in a controlled manner. How was Dean supposed to believe Crowley when he says that even he was having trouble in regards of remaining in control. Unless Crowley was a demon who was old enough to bluff well enough to make it seem like he was in more control then he said he was.

From then on the motions was something Dean was familiar with. Touching. Stripping. Dean couldn't keep track where his own clothing went or Crowley's for that matter. The demon was seemingly doing everything in his power to keep the attention on him and to keep control of the situation. Dean let instincts take over. He'll hate himself after.

He gave Sam trouble for having sex with Ruby and here he was on his back for Crowley!

Yet Dean couldn't stop it now. It was too far into it to stop and Crowley wasn't one taking no for an answer. Dean tried that when he told the demon to cut it out. When he struggled.

Dean was grateful that there was no words said between them. Just natural born movements and touches. Panting and groans and the occasional yelp from Dean. Not that he would admit to making such a sound. For how against this Dean might be and how wrong he's been feeling today since he got up, this felt good. Dean will have to think up ways to making it up to Lisa and hiding the proof of what he did. But for now Dean silently demanded for more.

Silent demands turned to silent attempts to gain footing in this situation and the silence disappeared along the way.

When it came time for the simple touches to stop and for the next part of the show to happen, Dean put up a fuss. He wasn't entirely fond of the idea of someone taking him up his ass. But Crowley heard none of it and the tie came out of no where and put to use restraining Dean's hands above his head to the headboard. Dean cursed Crowley out, an action that became exceptionally difficult because of the fact that despite the lack of listening on Crowley's part he was making sure Dean was stretched.

Dean won't say that he was grateful, Dean wasn't fond of the idea of being taken without some preparation. The thing with having his hands tied, that part he wasn't grateful for. In fact Dean made his displeasure known. Not that it helped in the long run. And whatever control Crowley might have had up to this point disappeared when the demon finally positioned himself and pushed forward.

It hurt at the beginning but that didn't stop Crowley in the least. Once he was in, it was just about take. And Dean could roll with that because he could do that just as well. Dean took whatever pleasure he could find in the movements, making sure to move with the demon and position himself so that it could go from discomfort and pain to pleasure and wanting more. Dean would rather have pleasure then pain, he's had enough pain to last him several lifetimes.

Hard grasps to Dean's flesh spoke of Crowley's lack of control and his need. Dean knows he'll be bruised pretty good when this was done. That was something he knows he'll have to take care of before Lisa see's it.

“Oh!”

It wasn't meant to be said. Dean normally isn't the one who gets reactions like that, he gives them. But there was no doubt that in this case that was him and it was due to the fact that he moved in the right position and pleasure was now felt just as prominent as the fading pain was. This was the point that Dean could really get on board.

His betrayal numbing to the pleasure for the moment. The need.

Dean cried out when he finally came and he couldn't deny the fact that the pleasure of his orgasm was welcomed and embraced at this point.

~ + ~

Dean found himself had by Crowley several times and each without much of a recovery time between them. It left him spent, exhausted and not entirely sure he can move without his body protesting. Even his mind was in haze. Recounting each moment. Sometimes more violent then before and sometimes uncomfortably tender.

Crowley was good, Dean had to reluctantly admit that to himself. The demon wasn't afraid to get dirty in this regard. But that didn't take away from the fact that the picture of a woman and a son kept popping up in his mind. Important to him...

“Not doubting me now are you.” It wasn't a question, Crowley seemed tired but more functional then Dean was. A cigar held limply in his hand and a glass of liquor in his other hand. Fully dressed and Dean wondered when did that happen and where was his own clothing?

Dean will fight Crowley on that, doubt or not Dean wasn't in heat. He was human.

“I'm human, humans can't get into heat.” Dean insisted angrily. Any pleasure and haze he was feeling quickly dissipated and the entire situation sunk in. How could he be so stupid!

“Go into heat darling.” Crowley corrected with a condescending grin on his face and Dean could only glare as he forced himself to sit up, his body protested and he knew he was going to be sore for awhile. His backside especially was sore. There was bruising on his hips and wrists. Not to mention from the one sided fight earlier.

“You know damn well what I mean Crowley.” Dean snapped as he looked around for his clothing, there was no sign of his belongings in this room. Only Dean himself and with the uncomfortable realization that he was nude and on Crowley's bed.

“Of course I do. Did it not occur to you, that all Michael really needed was your body. Not your soul. Castiel repaired it enough for you to be functional and behave human.” Crowley humoured before explaining calmly while putting his cigar down in a expensive looking ashtray. It might be crystal. But that wasn't as important as what Crowley just said. Dean knows that angels need permission and so long as he was himself and functional then Michael could have gotten it and it would have been legit.

But then if that was the case, did that mean that Dean could be...

“Are you saying...” Dean had to ask, had to be sure he understood and he hoped that he didn't. It gained him a chuckle, amusement and arrogance now back in full play for the demon who seemed even more relaxed then he was when he first appeared next to Dean's truck.

“You're not a demon darling, I would know. But you were starting to turn, if anything you're equivalent to a babe. But don't worry, you won't turn and go psychopath on the general public.” Crowley explained and Dean found himself frowning. He wasn't a demon, but his soul was becoming one and the change had started already? Would that be cured from the time Dean was saved to now? If Dean was feeling the effects of whatever this was, then Dean must not be.

What did that mean then?

“It means darling, you can still be turned. Don't worry, I don't plan to. You're more useful human and alive then one of us.” Crowley stated calmly and Dean could hear it in the words. The future wasn't set in that regard and Dean felt a sense of dread settle in his stomach. What could change him from now to then.

He wanted to call on Cas to ask him, beg him for more answers. The angel wasn't good at coming out and saying things in the start, but from then to now he learnt important lessons of how not to hide things that are required to know. Or at least Dean hoped so because Dean trusted him.

“How...” Dean started to ask. If this was going to be happening to him, then Dean wanted to know everything he can.

“How often does this happen? Once a year topside. Ten years per month in Hell, do the math. And why you didn't feel it from when you were raised to now. You already went through your first in the care of Alastair.” Crowley explained and Dean's blood ran cold at the fact that Crowley obviously knows about Dean's situation with the older demon. History that Dean didn't want anyone to know, it was bad enough that Meg one of the last remaining links to his old teacher was still alive.

Dean shifted to prepare to move or something when a hand to his shoulder stopped him. He looked up and Crowley just smiled down at him. Cold and calculating.

Dean started to feel unnaturally tired. Crowley was doing something to him and Dean didn't know what. He tried to demand what Crowley was doing only his words were slurred and Dean was unable to get a few words out that made sense.

“Consider this to be a small gift to you pet. You won't remember a thing.” Crowley stated, cutting through any demands Dean was trying to make.

Dean's last question was a simple one. What did Crowley mean by that?

Darkness overtook him as Dean slumped back on an expensive bed.

~ + ~

Dean groaned as light cruelly woke him up. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had such a good night's sleep. With a yawn and a stretch Dean checked under his bed and found his gun and holy water where he left them. Sluggishly he moved and noticed that his back end was in pain. Why would it be in pain?!

Dean recounted how yesterday went. He went to work and then came home. But what could have happened in between that? Scratching the back of his head he checked himself over for any other injury. There was none. It was weird so Dean had to either forget it or watch what he drinks from now on. It was obvious he might have done something stupid somewhere down the line.

The devil's trap by the door was still in one piece and there was a good morning message from Lisa. This time Ben was heard in the background. They were having a good time and Dean couldn't help but feel like everything was okay.

He felt good.


End file.
